THE CONNECTION
by Patcat
Summary: Post nine, pre ten.
1. Chapter 1

THE CONNECTION

It was a beautiful early spring day, a day when she was glad she wore her jacket but she felt she could drape it over her shoulders when she went out for lunch. She sat in the nearby park and smiled as she heard children complain about wearing jackets and sweaters. She hoped the weather would hold through the weekend, when she and her nephew planned a lot of outdoor activities. She finished her lunch and threw her sandwich's remains to a watchful cardinal couple. She returned to her work reluctantly only because of the weather. She liked her new job, even if it lacked the prestige and some of the best parts of the work of a NYPD detective. It was just challenging enough, but not particularly dangerous, although she still carried a gun. Her former captain was as great a boss as he'd ever been—in some ways, better, since he didn't have to abide by NYPD regulations and politics. She hoped that when he returned from whatever and wherever his mysterious job had taken him, that her former partner would consider working for Jimmy Deakins as well.

She was deep in her analysis of truck delivery patterns of an imported rug company suffering unexplained losses—the sort of thing Bobby Goren loved to do—when there was a knock on her door. She looked up and saw Deakins in the door and knew immediately something was terribly wrong. Her first thought was Nate. Something had happened to Nate. She shot to her feet, and then she saw the professionally dressed woman and man standing behind Deakins.

"Government...Agents..." She looked at Deakins' stricken face.

"Alex." Deakins' voice broke.

Alex staggered back against her chair. "Bobby," she murmured.

Deakins moved into the room, allowing the man and woman to move through the door. Alex fell into her chair. The woman stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Eames. I'm Agent Phillips, and this is Agent McCallister. You're listed as Robert Goren's contact and beneficiary," the woman said.

"What happened?" There was a terrible roar in Alex's ears, and the room was terribly, unnaturally bright. But she was still thinking, still capable of speech, which seemed more than Deakins could do. Perhaps it was the small glimmer of hope that kept Alex sane.

The male agent stepped forward. "Mr. Goren was a hero..."

Alex only heard one words. "Was." Past tense. Bobby was.

"He's dead," Alex stated. The roar in her ears grew. The room was brighter and hotter.

Phillips' voice came through the roar. "I'm sorry, Ms. Eames. Everything went well, mostly because of Mr. Goren. And then something went wrong." The agent sighed. "We're still investigating what happened. But there was a series of explosions at the compound where Hassan and his supporters had their headquarters. Mr. Goren had infiltrated their ranks, and he was there."

"Where...Where is his...Where is Bobby now?" Alex asked.

"I'm sorry," Philips said. "We know he died in the blast, but we couldn't recover his body."

"Poor Bobby," Alex murmured. "Ihere's something awful about that."

"We have his personal items," Philips said. "Few they are. If we can help you in any way..."

"I...I'd like to talk with the people he worked with. If I can..." Alex said.

McAllister stood uncertainly through this conversation, but finally spoke. "I was part of the support team for this mission. I'll get as many people as I can to speak to you." His professional face slipped. "Mr. Goren was an exceptional man. Brilliant, hardworking, brave. It...It was an honor to..."

Alex managed to stand. "Thank you," she said with great calmness. She wondered who this brave woman was who used her voice to speak so evenly and gently. "I'd very much like to talk to you and others. It's good to know that someone else knows...Knew...Bobby is...Was...A good man."

Phillips handed Alex a card. "We'll be in touch," she promised. "But if you need anything...Anything...Please let us know."

Alex nodded. Suddenly she just wanted these people to go. She wanted to be alone to deal with this news, to mourn Bobby.

"I'm very sorry, Ms. Eames," McAllister said. Alex thought he was taking all of this very hard, and that he was also struggling to hide something. "Mr. Goren spoke of you often. He admired you very much."

Phillips touched McAllister's arm. "Scott's told me about Mr. Goren," she said. "He said Mr. Goren saved this mission. I wish I could've met him. If there's any kind of service, or if you'd like the Bureau to help plan one, please let us know. I suspect Mr. Goren will be receiving many commendations for his work."

"Thank you," Alex said. "There will be some kind of official notification? Some documents?"

"Yes," Phillips said. "And we'll make sure those get to you."

McAllister shook his head. "I never understood why there seemed to be so few people in Goren's life."

"It's complicated," Alex said. She didn't want to defend, or think that she had to defend, or explain Bobby's choices, or lack of choices, in life. She wasn't sure that she could. "Very complicated."

Phillips guided McAllister from the room. "Again, Ms. Eames, I'm very sorry. We'll be in touch."

"I'll walk you out." Deakins had finally recovered.

"Yes, sir," Alex nodded.

Deakins couldn't meet her gaze as he shut the office door.

Alex stood motionless. She stared out the window without seeing the trees and lake. She saw Bobby—his graying curls, the soft beard he sometimes forget, sometimes didn't, forget to shave; the restless, graceful, elegant hands; and the deep chocolate eyes. "I'm never going to see him again," Alex thought. Her head seemed to accept this idea, but her heart and soul or whatever refused. They fiercely argued that Bobby was still alive. "No." Alex shook her head. "I'm being irrational. Bobby is gone. He's dead."

There was a tentative knock at the door.

"I'm sorry, Alex," Deakins said as he opened the door. "I haven't been much help to you. It's a shock."

"Yes."

"Whatever you need, let me know."

"Of course," Alex said. She wondered why she couldn't move.

"I really don't know what Bobby's been doing lately, aside from what you've told me," Deakins said.

"That's all I knew," Alex said. She wished she could move. Her legs began to hurt.

"I guess...With his Mom and brother gone...Are there many people to contact?"

"He has some relatives in Minnesota. A nephew, if anyone can find him..."

Her knees buckled, and Alex grabbed her desk to keep from falling. Deakins helped ease her to her chair.

"I'm sorry," Alex said. "I've been standing for a while."

"It's understandable," Deakins said. "It's a shock..."

Alex realized Deakins desperately needed to do something for her.

"Could you get me some coffee, sir?" Alex hoped Deakins wouldn't see the nearly full cup already on her desk. "I think I really need some, and I'm not sure my legs are reliable right now."

"Of course." Deakins managed to hide his relief at being given a task. "Black, lots of sugar, right?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"I'll be right back."

She heard the door close. She stared at the pictures on her desk, some of them part of the few objects she took from Major Case. There was the most recent photo of her nephew, the picture of her beloved dog, the one she'd snapped of Bobby and Nate examining the tigers at the zoo, and the one Bobby had taken of the two of them at a restaurant during a case. She'd inherited that last photo from Bobby's desk when he'd finally left Major Case. She lifted the picture and stared at it. Bobby had taken it impulsively, and Alex liked very few photos of herself, especially candid ones. But Bobby looked, so, well, Bobby, in the picture, with a mix of pleasure, mischief and interest on his face. And it was taken at a time when their partnership and friendship had become very good. And it was before, before everything battered and shattered Bobby. As she stared at the photo, Alex's heart refused to believe Bobby was dead.

"I need to contact people," she thought. "Lewis. His relatives. There's a lot of people in the NYPD who'll want to know. Some sort of memorial service. His stuff. I suppose I'm responsible for his stuff."

Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, God," she said. "I'm a widow again."

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Standard

Chapter Two

Alex stared down at the church hall. It was full of people from the different worlds Bobby inhabited. There were musicians-classical, folk, country, some indefinable styles-who'd joined together to provide the music for the memorial service. There was the priest, the rabbi, the minister, even the woman who'd calmly informed Alex that she was a witch. Somehow this widely differing group of people had produced a moving, sad and funny service that actually touched all of Bobby's friends. The minister had offered the use of his church hall for both the service and the wake that followed. As the news of Bobby's death spread, Alex discovered his memorial service didn't require all that much planning. The ministers and musicians appeared, followed by all sorts of people who dealt with all kinds of food. There were all sorts of food and drink available.

Alex watched the people. She'd forgotten how many times she'd said, "Thank you," thoughout the afternoon. As far as many people were concerned, she was the widow. She was, at least, the person people could express their grief to and offer memories of Bobby. Alex stared into her coffee. She couldn't return their grief and memories. She accepted, or thought she accepted, Bobby's death. But something inside her wouldn't let him go. It told her that somewhere, someplace, Bobby still existed.

"Alex."

She turned to face James Deakins.

"It's...Well...If a wake can be...It's wonderful. Bobby...Bobby would've loved it." He stared into his coffee. "Even the coffee is great."

"Thank you," Alex said warmly. "I just wish..I can't...I keep..." She swallowed. "I keep...Feeling...That he's still alive."

Deakins took a long drink of coffee. "I think that's because you and Bobby have...Had...This connection. Maybe it still..." He shook his head. "I don't know, Alex. I've never been good with the spiritual stuff. Or the emotional stuff. Maybe it's because it was such a shock."

Alex bit her lip. "Maybe...Maybe...But...I can't get rid of the feeling..."

"Just don't push it, Alex. Take all the time you need. You and Bobby...I don't know what it was. Maybe I don't want to know. But take care of yourself." Deakins drained his cup. "I'm going to find some more of this coffee."

Alex watched him walk away. "He knew," she thought. "And maybe he always did know more about Bobby and me than we ever did."

"Alex. How you doing?"

Alex turned to face Liz Rodgers, who was remarkably well turned out. Her voice and eyes were sympathetic, and Alex remembered that Rodgers knew something about being an undercover widow. She didn't know how much the M.E. knew about her and Bobby, but she suspected that, like Jimmy Deakins, Liz Rodgers might know more about her and Bobby than they did.

"All right, I think." Alex brushed a wayward strand of hair out of her face. Her carefully put together face was fraying. "It seems to be going...Well."

Rodgers smiled sadly. "It is going well. You've got all the differnt parts of Bobby's life here. It's a wonderful way to remember him."

"Good. Good," Alex said. "I wanted everyone to be happy, or at least as..."

"You succeeded. It's too bad it took this to bring everyone who knew him together. He was one of the most remarkable men I ever knew." Rodgers shook her head. "If he had an MD, he could've had my job. Probably would've done it better."

"He admired you a lot," Alex said. "Always wanted to work with you. He thought you were the best."

"Always?" Rodgers asked. "I bet there was at least one time he wished he hadn't asked for me to do something."

"He understood that once he got over being angry. He understood. And he always trusted you," Alex declared.

"A great honor," Rodgers said. "I know that Bobby Goren didn't trust easily. I've got to go, Alex. But I'll call you next week when you really need someone, and we can get good and snookered."

The two women hugged awkwardly.

"I'd like that," Alex whispered. "I'd like that a lot."

Alex walked to a table as Rodgers moved away. The musician, all of them, were improvising some weird but suitable tune. Some people started to dance. Alex smiled. Bobby loved to dance, and, as big as he was, was good at it.

Alex looked up at Mike Logan, who, like Rodgers, was very well turned out. "Of course, Mike. You look good. You look really good."

"I'm more than willing to dress up fo a guy and cop like Bobby Goren," Logan said as he sat down. "You look good, Alex, especially considering everything. This...Well...It's weird to say, but this is great. Goren would've loved this. God, I hope I get a memorial something near this."

"Thanks, Mike. I needed to hear something like that. But I hope I don't have to go to one of these for you for a long time. You ok?"

"Yea. I landed all right. I'm working for a p.i. firm."

"Spying on errant husbands"

"Nope. None of that so far. Mostly industrial stuff. Kinda like what you do for Deakins, I guess. Not bad work. Regular hours. Not a lot of politics."

"Miss the Department?" Alex asked.

Logan sighed. "Every damn day."

He and Alex shared a sad smile.

"How about you, Alex?" Logan asked. "How are you doing?"

Alex leaned forward. "I don't know. I honestly don't know. I guess planning everthing has kept me busy. And I'm the executor Bobby's estate, and its chief beneficiary. I keep waiting for it to hit me. But it hasn't. I mean, my head knows he's dead. It tells me that. And, I was closer to him than I've ever been to anyone. Sometimes I think I am...Was...Closer to Bobby than my husband. I told Bobby things I'd never tell anyone else. We were partners and friends and something else. I know a lot of people thought we having sex, but it never happened. Even though there were times...And I think Bobby...I should be destroyed, crying my eyes out. And I can't. I just can't. Maybe it's because they didn't find his body. But there's part of me that just doesn't...Can't...Believe he's dead."

Logan smiled sadly. "I always knew Goren was a better man than me. Had a better and stronger code. The two of you always did have that psychic link."

"Yea. It's just that it feels like it's not broken. Well,I guess there's no reason why anything involving Bobby and me should be normal."

"I'm not sure what is normal any more," Logan said. "And, if I want it. Listen, Alex. You need anything. Anything at all. Especially if you need a shoulder. Or someone to drown your trouble with...I can't do a lot of things very well, but I can do that..."

"Liz Rodgers and I have a drowning party planned next week. I think you might be welcome," Alex said.

Logan stood. "I may take you up on that. All of this is great, Alex. Perfect. The only thing it doesn't have is Goren. And that's too bad, 'cause he would've loved it."

They stood and hugged. Logan was better at it than Rodgers, and Alex gratefully leaned on her for several moments.

"Thanks, Mike. Thanks."

She watched him walkaway. And she still couldn't weep, couldn't wail, for the loss of Bobby. Some great, deep part of her refused to believe that he was gone. It seemed his soul, his life, still existed somewhere.

"Maybe I'm going crazy," Alex thought. "Or maybe we did have some strange link...I don't know..."

END Chapter Two

Patcat

I need to use one of my most important investigative tools-my library . Robert Goren


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

It may not have been normal, but Alex's life became more routine. She went to work, she saw her family, she refused to go on dates. She spent one afternoon answering Nate's questions about Bobby as best as she could. The boy's questions didn't bother her as much as that she didn't know their answers. The FBI wasn't particularly forthcoming about what happened beyond saying Robert Goren was a hero. His name would eventually be added to the memorial to fallen agents. But Alex's meetings with those who had worked with Bobby were postponed week after week. It was mysterious and frustrating to Alex, especially as she couldn't rid herself of the haunting sensation Bobby was still alive.

Many things about Bobby"s death puzzled Nate. This didn't surprise Alex. Bobby was the first person in Nate's young life who had died.

"Bobby is in heaven?" Nate asked one day as they shared ice cream.

"Yes." Alex though that if ever a man was good enough and had suffered enough to get into heaven, it was Bobby Goren.

Nate went to the memorial service. "Is it wrong," he asked Alex as he watched and listened to the crowd. "To be having a good time at a funeral?"

"It's fine," Alex said. "We're sad because we're not going to see Bobby any more, but this is a celebration of Bobby's life as much as it's a way to say goodbye to him."

She could talk to Nate about Bobby. Nate had always accepted Bobby. Bobby was part of his life, a good and welcome one. The rest of her family, as it always had been when it came to Bobby, was puzzled. Puzzled that Alex was the executor and beneficiary of Bobby's will (she placed all of the money and bonds in a trust fund for Nate after giving some to groups she thought would please Bobby). Puzzled by her lack of emotion, and also by what they saw as her refusal to move on. Alex couldn't blame them. She didn't understand her feelings either.

"Maybe it's because you really didn't get to say goodbye to him?" Liz Rodgers suggested during one of their margarita sessions. "I mean...with Danny...I couldn't deny his death..."

"I don't know," Alex said. "Maybe...I just don't know."

"I can't imagine you being afraid of anything, Alex," Jimmy Deakins said to her over lunch one day. "But you think you might not want to face the future?"

Alex took a long drink of tea. "I've wondered about that. I don't think so. I mean, I'm going to work. I'm seeing people. I don't think I'm hiding from things. I just can't believe Bobby's dead."

"I know," Deakins said. "If anything, it seems to me that you're running towards things, not away from them."

She continued to press the FBI. Her contacts appeared to be telling her everything they could. She appealed to a few of Bobby's contacts in the intelligence world, but they couldn't offer any additional information.

"I can't tell you anything," one told her.

"Can't or won't?" Alex said.

The man smiled sadly. "In this case, can't. There's just no information. I don't think it's even a case of secrecy. There's just nothing there."

Alex resigned herself to asking questions when she could and accepting what answers she got. But the FBI's reluctance to help troubled her, as did her memory of Agent McAllister's behavior when he appeared to inform her of Bobby's death.

"Something's going on," Alex thought. "But do I even want to know?" She lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling. "Oh, Bobby. So much I wish I would've told you. I wish I would've done. But I have to let you go. I have to."

She hadn't slept well since the news of Bobby's death, not that she'd slept that well in the weeks before his death. She drifted in and out of a troubled sleep punctuated by dreams and memories of Bobby. She thought she heard the faint click of her front door, but she knew she'd locked all of them. The habit became implanted after Jo Gage's attack on her, and the only keys were in her hands, her fathers', and …

Bobby.

She shot up in bed just as her bedroom door opened slowly. She started to grab the gun under the bed when a streak of light from her windows fell on the face of the large figure standing in the doorway. Dark eyes stared out at her from a pale face surrounded by graying curls.

Her heart raced. She couldn't breath, and her body froze. Fear and hope seized her. "Bobby," she squeaked."

END Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

Yes, two chapters in one day!

Chapter Four

Alex Eames didn't believe in ghosts, and she had no desire to have that belief challenged. She knew very little about ghosts and spirits, and hoped to maintain that ignorance until her own entry into that world, an entry that she hoped would be delayed as long as possible. From what little she knew about supernatural figures, the large shadow at the foot of her bed wasn't acting like one. Ghosts were supposed to haunt where they'd died or were buried or had unfinished business. Alex couldn't think why Bobby Goren would haunt her home, unless it had something to do with some unfinished business. Ghosts were supposed to be wispy and fragile; this figure was remarkably solid. No light flooded through it. No cries came from it, only a deep and sad sigh.

And then it spoke.

"Oh...Oh...Alex...Eames...I'm so sorry so terribly sorry. I...I couldn't do anything. I...I was hurt, and then...For the mission...They said it was better if...And it took me so long to get better. I'm sorry...I'm so sorry. And then to come here like this...But I had to see you. To at least let you know...I'm sorry...So sorry..."

He shuffled towards her side of the bed as he spoke. Alex, her heart finally approaching a normal rate and breathing again, clicked on the lamp on her bedside table. She looked up at Bobby. He stood awkwardly and stiffly, his left hand rubbing the back of his neck. He was very pale and had lost a great deal of weight. His graying curls were a week or so beyond needing cut, but he was clean shaven. He wore a blue shirt over a black T-shirt with jeans, all of which seemed a size too big for him. All of this Alex noted as part of her second nature as a detective. All that really registered with her was that Bobby, alive, breathing, speaking, stood by her bed.

Alex seized his hand. It was flesh and bone, nerve and muscle. "Bobby. You're alive. You're alive." She pulled at his hand, and Bobby sat heavily on the bed.

"I think I am. Sometimes I wonder," he said ruefully. "Especially when I first wake up. But then some little pain or being hungry or needing to use the bathroom reminds me. Or a memory. Especially a memory of you."

Alex shook, and then fell into Bobby's arms. He stiffened and then wrapped his arms around her.

"Oh." Her voice was muffled in his chest. "Bobby. I'm sorry. I hurt you..." Her fingers splayed across his jaw and throat, where she saw and felt the scars. "You've been hurt."

"I...I'm ok now," Bobby said. He struggled to ignore the tiny sparks Alex's fingers sent through his body. "There...There was an explosion..." He shivered.

"Oh, Bobby." Alex gently turned his face so that she could see his eyes. "I lost you. I really lost you. But you came back."

Bobby swam in her sea green eyes. "I...I was in bad shape, I guess. By the time I was well enough to know what was going on, a couple of months had passed."

Alex winced.

"By then, it was safer for a lot of people and me for certain people to think I was dead. It helped smoke out the people responsible for Ross' death."

Alex felt a surge of satisfaction.

"His kids...Everyone...Will know he's a hero," Bobby declared. "His name will be cleared."

"That's very important to you," Alex said.

"I owe him a lot. And it was the right thing to do."

"You almost got killed." Alex's fingers found more scars on his neck.

"The only thing I regret is that you didn't know. I mean...I...I knew...Upset is such a weak word."

"Bobby." Alex pulled away from him.

"Alex...Eames...Please...I don't...God...I don't know how to explain this...Please...I...I can't imagine I mean anything to you. I only know what you mean to me. And if you feel half of what I feel for you...The thought of how much pain...But then maybe you..." His head fell to lean against hers. "What I realized...Over there...And when I was getting better...I realized...I guess something I knew since I met you...I love you."

Alex's heart jumped, and there was a roar in her ears, and the light seemed terribly bright. "I'm feeling just like when I learned Bobby was..." She suddenly became aware that Bobby wasn't sitting on the bed. "Bobby..."

"It's ok," Bobby said flatly. "Don't worry. This didn't happen." His body slumped. "After all, I'm supposed to be dead. It should be easy to..."

"No! No!" Alex jumped from the bed and threw her arms around him. "Don't say that! Don't go! I can't lose you again. Not again. I love you. I can't lose you again." She kissed him.

Bobby seized her face and returned the kiss. Alex pulled his shirts from his jeans and fumbled with his belt.

"Alex. What..."

"I'm not going to lose you again. Not again." She grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and jerked both of his shirts over his head. She gasped at the patches of scarred skin on his chest and back.

"Oh, Bobby," she murmured.

"It's not that bad...Wasn't...As bad as it looks...Oh, Alex," he whispered as she tenderly kissed the scars on his shoulder.

She reached for his jeans and unzipped them. She pulled them down with his boxers. Bobby kicked off his shoes and awkwardly stepped out of his clothes. He yanked off his socks and stood shyly before Alex.

"He's scared," she thought."He's standing naked and vulnerable in front of me and it's taking all of his guts to do it." She grabbed the bottom of her top and pulled it over her head. Bobby gasped as he fell to his knees in front of her.

"Oh, Alex. Beautiful, wonderful Alex." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. His curls were soft against her breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair.

"Bobby. My beautiful, brave Bobby." She kissed the top of his head. "C'mon. Let's get in bed. That floor must be killing your knees."

He rose unsteadily and slipped under the sheet. Alex shed her underwear, and Bobby stared at her with so much passion and love that it was Alex's turn to be frightened. Bobby had so many scars, far more than just the ones on his body. She wondered if she could heal any of them.

"Alex. If you have any doubts about this...Any at all..."

The gentle yearning in his voice drove away her fears.

"Oh, Bobby..." Alex slipped beneath the sheets next to him. "You're lying naked in my bed. I'm naked. I'd say I'm pretty sure about this." She lay on her side and faced him. Bobby gently touched her cheek.

"It's been a long time since I've done this," he confessed. "And it means so much to me. You...Alex...What I feel about you. It must be love. It's gotta be. It...I think it kept me alive during these past months. It kept me sane." He smiled sadly. "Or at least what passes for sane with me."

"Oh, Bobby." Alex touched his cheek.

He raised his body over her. "Don't let me hurt you. Don't let me do anything you don't want."

In the next few moments he did nothing to hurt her and nothing she didn't want or like. He did a great deal to make her feel more wonderful than she ever had. She was, in spite of periods of enforced celibacy, a sensual being. She was not a blushing girl. But, whether it was because of her love and need for Bobby, or his need and love for her, she'd never experienced lovemaking in the way Bobby loved her. As she returned to the reality of her bedroom, Alex became aware of Bobby next to her. His right arm was flung over his eyes, and his body shook. She shakily raised her body so that she could look down on him.

"Bobby. It's all right. It's more than all right."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he muttered. "Everything I ever did to you. And everything you've done for me. You never gave up on me. And how I've repaid you."

"Bobby." Alex tenderly pulled his arm away from his eyes. They were tightly shut, and tears shone on his long eyelashes. "You never did that much. And what you just did for me makes up for an awful lot." She kissed the tears on his lashes. "And there's a lot of other things you've done that have made me very happy. And this return from the dead. It's the best thing you've ever done."

"Like I said, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you." He was calm now. "I was in the explosion that destroyed Hassan's compound. I was trying to get away." He smiled sadly. "My memory is pretty fuzzy. I remember the explosion, but then it's a blur. My first clear memory is being on a Navy ship. And that was at least a couple of weeks after the explosion. By that time, I think the FBI had told you I was dead."

"One of the agents—McAllister-He knew you were alive?" Alex tried to keep anger out of her voice. None of this was Bobby's fault.

"He was one of the contact agents. Don't blame him, Alex. He wanted to tell you. So did a lot of people .But letting people think I was dead helped the Bureau and the CIA could protect a lot of people and help several missions." He stretched. "I'm not sure I entirely believe all of that, but I wasn't in any position to argue."

Alex gently touched his shoulder and tried not to linger on the scars there. "It looks like you were hurt pretty bad."

Bobby touched Alex's face. "It...It wasn't pretty. Some third degree burns. A couple of broken ribs. I was out of it for a while. I wanted them to contact you."

"Why didn't you call?" Alex asked. "Why suddenly appear?"

"I wasn't thinking clearly, obviously," Bobby admitted. "They finally brought me back to New York. And they promised me that as soon as I was well enough to be released I could see anyone I wanted. They told me he deception to go on. And when they finally let me go this afternoon...Or was it yesterday? I had to see you. I had no idea of what to say on the phone. I just had to see you."

"What would you have done if I had changed my lock? Or moved?"

"Don't know. Pound on your door until someone called the cops. Like I said, I wasn't really thinking. Still not," Bobby said ruefully. "It's not a great explanation."

"No it isn't." Alex leaned forward and kissed Bobby. "But I'm so glad that you're alive."

They made love again. Her passion stunned Alex; his stamina stunned Bobby. They lay entangled and exhausted together when they finished.

"Wow," Alex murmured.

"Very wow," Bobby said.

Alex raised her body so she could look down at Bobby. "You had a great memorial service."

Bobby smiled sleepily. "Really? Everyone have a good time?"

"Yea. Although everyone said they wished they knew you better. I hope you give them that chance."

Bobby reached for Alex and pulled her to him. "Were...Were there a lot of people?"

"You really have no idea how many people care about you, how many you've helped, how many...well...love you?"

Bobby's cheeks reddened.

"There were a lot of people. A lot. Even a lot of cops." Alex nested on his chest. "You know what? I think we'll need another service to celebrate your return. Let you see just how many people care about you."

Bobby's hands began to roam through her hair. "Oh, God, Alex, it's so good to be with you and alive."

Alex kissed him on the cheek. "Yea..."

END


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